Life After Life
by Petals Open to the Moon
Summary: After centuries of wandering the earth, searching for meaning as he did for blood, Vlad Tepes is close to giving up. And then he finds her. But just as his life seems to find purpose again, an ancient evil rises up to thwart him. Will there be another life after this one...? Vlad/Mina.
1. Hello, Stranger

**Some of you have been asking me to do this, and I have to say the first time I saw this scene, I was like, "Dude... FANFICTION!" *laughs maniacally, then coughs* Um, anyway... so this is basically the last scene of the movie, when Vlad meets the reincarnation of his dead wife in a marketplace. I chose London as the city. **

**Enjoy, and don't forget to press that review button down there! **

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><p>The streets of London were crowded this time of evening, though the tumult of citizens returning from work had settled down, somewhat. Vlad walked amongst the flower and book vendors near Regent's Park, his thoughts clouded and preoccupied. He had fed well the night before, and did not, for the moment, require sustenance.<p>

He was looking for a girl.

He had seen her once, already, when he left the Globe Theatre with a surge of chattering people. The play that night had been _The Taming of the Shrew. _Not one of his favorites of the English playwright, but it did serve to entertain.

He had walked casually through the streets, looking for a stray partygoer to pluck from a group… when he'd spotted her. His heart had stood still in his chest. Certainly, her hair was different, and she wore heavier makeup than he preferred, but the resemblance was incredible.

She'd passed just in front of him, and he'd closed his eyes, breathing deeply of her scent. Once he opened them, she was gone.

Vanished.

Had it all been a dream? He was no mortal, truly, but even he could be subject to hallucinations of the mind. The thought angered as it pained him, and he had hunted with more malice than usual that night.

Now he stood at the park's entrance, the setting sun granting him full access to the city. He did not know if she would come. Did not even know if she was from England. (He was able to fake the accent quite well, himself.) He had simply come here because everyone did. There was a celebration of some kind going on, and the city lights lit up with excitement.

_Please, _he thought. _Let her come. Let me not have dreamt her up. _

He straightened his broad shoulders, walking into the crowd silently. His dark hair and clothing contrasted strongly with some of the partygoers vibrant outfits. Like a hunting dog, he used his previous encounter with her scent guide him, searching with all senses alert.

It was not scent, however, that led him to her. It was the sound of her voice. A sound he had not yet heard, yet knew better than anything in the world.

He stopped in his tracks, a merry laugh causing him to lift his head.

"What? Seven pounds for just that?"

He turned, and there she was. Her blonde hair was clipped shorter than the last time he'd seen her. She reached out a slender hand, teasing the rose vendor for his ridiculous price.

"I will pay you four," she insisted. Vlad could see the sparkle in her beautiful eyes. The poor man didn't stand a chance.

"Oh… very well," he relented, succumbing to the young woman's charms. "Take your flowers and go."

She thanked him, tucking her wallet back into her bag. Vlad's heart pounded as she walked straight towards him, her eyes roving the other carts. She stopped at one just to his left, examining the handmade jewelry. The red roses glowed near her soft cheek.

"Beautiful," he whispered aloud.

The young woman looked up, startled.

Vlad cleared his throat, smiling briefly. "The flowers. My lady."

"'My lady?'" she giggled, and his heart warmed to the sound. "Where are _you _from?"

"Somewhere far from here."

His answer was honest, but she couldn't possibly know of the depth it contained. They stood a foot from one another, he with a grin that lit up his face, and she with a tentative, little smile. For once in his long life, he hadn't the slightest idea of what to say. The woman looked off to the side after a few seconds, unable to fill the silence.

"Well… good day," she said awkwardly, stepping away from him.

He spoke after her, desperate not to let her go. "'Why think separately of this life than the next, when one is born from the last?'"

She paused. Her head turned, looking back with a puzzled, yet pleased expression. "That's my favorite poem."

"It speaks to you of yearning," he said softly, coming close again. She noted that it wasn't a question.

"I… yes. I suppose it does."

He smiled warmly down at her. "For me, as well."

She smiled back, more genuinely this time. "I'm Mina."

He took the hand she offered, his own encased in black leather. "Vlad," he said, kissing it softly.

Mina looked taken aback for a moment at the gesture. She dropped her hand. "I'd like to talk," she said in her sweet voice. "But I've just got off work, and I've not eaten since lunch."

"May I come?" he asked.

She paused, and he realized how forward that sounded. "What I mean is… may I walk you home? We can talk on the way."

"Don't you have to get home, yourself?"  
>He smiled. Her British accent was so cute. "I have time. Come."<p>

He touched her elbow, not presumptuously, and led her from the crowded square towards up town. She grew more comfortable with him as they spoke, and he found out a few more things about her. She lived on Balcombe Street, near the Park, in a nice flat paid for by the company she worked for. She was a designer, specializing in home and furniture.

"Do you like your work?" he asked her. They both got onto the travel line, or the "Tube" as Londoners termed it. He grasped one of the hand rails, looking down at her.

"I do, actually. I have always loved art, since I was a little girl. Design is much the same."

He grinned. "Would you draw me a picture, if I asked you?"

Mina tossed her pixie bangs from her face. "That depends."

"On what?"

"If you ask me."

Vlad laughed, startling an old woman with groceries nearby. Mina felt her skin prickle at the warm sound. Gosh, but he had the most beautiful, deep voice!

_Why, Mina, what exactly do you think you're doing? _she heard a voice scold in her head. _Remember how the last one ended up? And you were just as charmed. So easily swept off your feet, you are! _

"Hush!" Mina hissed under her breath. Vlad glanced down at her curiously and she looked out the window, her cheeks coloring.

They arrived at her flat some time later, chatting like old friends. Mina walked up the steps and unlocked the door. She turned to say goodnight to her new friend. He was not expecting her to turn just then, so when she looked at his face, the expression she saw there startled her.

He looked so… desolate. Alone.

The expression disappeared almost immediately, and Vlad smiled. "Goodnight, Miss…?"

"Oh, it's Harker," she said quickly. "Miss Mina Harker."

"Goodnight, Miss Harker," he said softly.

And he was gone.

Mina exhaled, staring into the darkness. She realized they'd talked for a half hour, and she still knew absolutely nothing about him.

Only his name.

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><p><strong>Yes. I used Harker as her last name. What the hey? If Gary Shore is stealing a character from good 'ol Bram than I'm going to grab a little something to match it with. <strong>


	2. Thoughts of Death

**I want to thank all of my readers, thus far, and those of you who have been kind enough to upload. :) I appreciate it. Keep letting me know what you think! **

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><p>Vlad entered his apartment with a stormy expression. He walked into the kitchen, slamming his keys down onto the kitchen table. All the furniture in his apartment was either used or damaged, and the little table quivered under such abuse.<p>

"Damn it!" he exclaimed, not caring who heard. His neighbors were usually passed out drunk, anyway. He walked into the only other room available, slumping down on a threadbare sofa. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, reliving the last ten minutes with her. Again and again.

Could he acted any more desperate? Any more awkward than she probably already felt? Oh, but she must have been _so _relieved when he walked away! With that kind of beauty, he would be surprised if she didn't have someone coming onto her every day, besides!

He swore again, this time loud enough for someone to hear. The woman from upstairs crawled down the fire escape, using one of her high heels to lean over and tap on his window.

"Hey," she called. "Hey, you! What's wrong?"

Vlad sighed, rising. He opened the rusty window slowly. "Susan."

"Hey, I know ye're pissed, but do ye have to wake the whole neighborhood?"

"Don't scold me," he growled. "You were already awake."

"How do _you _know?"

"Call me psychic."

Susan laughed, tucking a few wild curls back under her blue headband. She was a middle-aged Irish woman who had moved in two weeks before he did. He wasn't sure if they were friends, but they weren't uncomfortable with each other, either. They'd both seen their share of heartache. And she was kind, once you pushed through her hard exterior.

"Okay, then." She grinned, plopping down on the grate by his window. She sucked in a draught of her cigarette, blowing smoke upwards. "Tell me _why _I was awake."

"How the hell should I know?"

"Don't be grumpy. What's eatin' ye, anyhow?"

Vlad sighed. "A woman."

Susan grinned widely. "Ah… so you won't be fancyin' me, no more?"

Her handsome neighbor chuckled, some good humor restored. "You're a decent woman, Susan."

"Oh, I know what that means. Means I've lost me looks, don't it? Well, all right…" She finished her cig, stifling it with a bit of tissue she carried. "So tell me about her. She pretty?"

"Very pretty."

"She rich?"

Vlad glanced sideways at her. "Does it matter?"

"Well, yes, if ye live in a dump like this!" She cackled a laugh. "Though I'm guessin' _you _ain't too poor, either. Yer clothes are just fine. What's that jacket cost? Fifty pound?"

"You've got sharp eyes, Susan." He gave her one of his rare smiles, knowing it would throw her off enough to forget the question. "Do you want me to tell you why you're awake?"

"Tell me," she said, dazed.

"You're drunk. Let me help you upstairs."

"Oh, I knew _that," _she said crossly. She stiffened as he swung himself out onto the grate. "And don't be pushin' me around, now! I've got a gun in me purse, and—"

"—and I unloaded it before I left," he purred, lifting her gently by her forearms. "I knew you were going to be plastered when I got back."

"Psychic," she muttered.

She let him guide her up the steps, still slippery from a shower that morning. He saw to it that she was lying down, both her door and window locked, before returning to his own dusty quarters. A measure of warmth had come into his heart. Easing the pain of indecision he felt. He wished she had been a little more clear-headed. Perhaps she had advice about Mina?

_No. _He shook his head, looking down at the dirty couch with some disgust. Better he not raise anyone's hopes, least of all his own. He hadn't even set a date on which to see her again, much less had a promise from her. His old pain and fears of loneliness rose up within him, erasing the effects of Susan's friendly chatter.

_Perhaps you were not meant for me in this life, Mirena, _he thought sadly. _Perhaps I am truly meant to suffer this regret for all eternity. _

He looked back at his dismal apartment, and turned with a shudder. He didn't sit back down, but stayed out on the fire grate, looking down at the wet streets below. The clouds promised rain, although it was not until past midnight that it fell. And still Vlad stood, gazing down silently at nothing.

The centuries lay stretched out before him, each longer and heavier than the last. Nights like these, he often thought of death. Or his old country. Or his patterns of hiding and reappearing through the years; even barely escaping from France when superstition still raged and the streets ran with blood...

Not tonight.

Tonight… he thought only of Mina.


	3. More Than a Name

**Let me just say that I am delighted and overwhelmed by the reviews I've received so far. You guys are going to be one of the things that motivates me to get this finished, I'll bet! ;D Let me know all critiques and questions... although if you are listed as "Guest," I won't be able to respond personally, sorry. Just the way fanfiction works. **

**Enjoy! **

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><p>Mina Harker walked into her little office, a spot of color lighting her pale cheeks. She had just finished a successful consultation with a client, and was perfectly on time. Consultations could take hours, and be quite frustrating, especially if she or he had no clear idea of what they wanted. But not so today. At this rate, she would get off work before five, and hopefully have time to get her shopping done before the shops closed at eight.<p>

"Annie?" she called into the hallway. "Would you please pull up the tile sample from last October for me?"

Her co-worker nodded, making a few rapid clicks on her work computer. "Should I email them to you?"

"No, print them off. I want to do some comparisons."

She walked happily over to her desk, rolling the chair forwards. She felt almost bubbly inside, and she wasn't sure why. The weather wasn't sunny today, but that wasn't unusual. Maybe it was just her success at work, and nothing more. But something kept tugging at her as she worked; something exciting and fresh and sweet.

She grinned, shaking her head. _Mina, you are quite the handful, sometimes. _She looked up as Annie brought her the requested copies, thanking her.

"What style do they want this time?"

MIna smiled. "Rural French country. Hopefully they won't change their minds again."

"Yeah, right. That woman must drive her husband _insane. _Picking and choosing all the time, and never settling."

"Isn't that what women do?" Mina smirked, peering up at her.

Annie snorted. "Not _me. _Hell, I'd live in a trailer, as long as someone else paid for it. Home is just a place to sleep."

"I'm sorry I don't share your cynicism, Annie," Mina giggled. "I don't mind my flat, but I'd love to own my own house someday. Somewhere far from here."

"You don't like London?"

"I've never left it."

Annie shrugged, leaving the office. Mina was only slightly aware of her exit. She stared straight ahead of her, her blue eyes clouding. _'Why think of this life separately than the next?'  
><em>

"That's why I'm so happy," she said softly. A stranger's face, a quick conversation, and only a goodbye at the door to remind her of him. Frustration rolled over her, blurring some of the happiness. She didn't even get his number. His occupation. When she would see him again ... _if _she would see him again.

"Mina?"

The young woman blinked, turning her head slowly. Her friend and co-worker, Brigit Gavin, stood in the doorway. She stood up.

"Bridget! I thought you had the day off with your kids?"

The two women embraced.

"I did, but their father decided _he_ was taking them to the zoo, instead." The older woman's smile was pained. "I know they need him in their life, Mina, but since the divorce… I just can't…"

Mina hushed her, smoothing her back gently. "Come. Sit with me. I only need a few more minutes, then we'll have coffee together."

"I don't want to bother you with my troubles."

Mina smiled warmly. "Don't I bother you with mine, now and then? That's what I'm here for. Now tell me. What do you think of this cabinet design?"

The clock struck four, and more people began milling in the streets, rushing this way and that as they got off work. Vlad stood underneath a tree, looking up at the building with his hands in his pockets. He could see the shine of Mina's golden hair when she walked by the window, papers in hand. She looked happy. Confident in her job and abilities.

He glanced down at his watch quickly. Five past the hour. She should be leaving soon.

"Excuse me? Sir?"

He looked down, seeing a man in slacks and a t-shirt. A large camera dangled around his neck, and a map of London was stuffed in his back pocket. "Yes?"

"Could you help me with-?"

Engrossed in aiding the stranger, Vlad did not see Mina and her friend exit the building. Only when he left the man, looking up quickly, did he catch sight of her blonde hair, disappearing into the crowds.

He walked briskly across the square, his black raincoat making a soft swishing noise about his legs. His equally dark hair was still damp from the rain, a few droplets clinging to his forehead. Damn it. He'd lost sight of her again. He sidestepped a group of teenagers, heading straight for the center of the crowd, where he'd last seen her. A few seconds of furious searching, and her blonde head captured his gaze.

"Miss Harker!" he called. He didn't care who heard him. "Mina!"

Mina walked with her friend, their arms linked together companionably. She looked to where Brigit was pointing, one of their favorite coffee shops. They were standing at the edge of the street, waiting to cross, when she heard her name being called.

"Mina!"

Mina turned immediately, her heart pounding. She gasped as Vlad appeared through the crowd, his hair swept back from his cheekbones, and his eyes lit up at having seen her. She suddenly wished for an extra five minutes. Just to catch whatever breath she had left...

"Mina." He stood at her side, grinning down at her. "I thought it was you."

"Who else?" she giggled nervously.

Brigit turned her head at her friend's laugh. "Mina, aren't we going -" Her eyes widened a little as she caught sight of Vlad. "Oh... I'm sorry."

Mina took a much-needed breath. "Brigit... this is a... an acquaintance of mine. We met in the Park yesterday."

Vlad took Brigit's proffered hand, his eyes crinkling at the corners charmingly. "I'm happy to meet you."

"Oh, believe me. The pleasure's all mine," Brigit fluttered, beaming like a schoolgirl. She turned to Mina, her face bursting with questions. "Mina... Mina, darling. You didn't tell me you'd met someone."

"It was just yesterday. I told you."

Brigit smirked, her motherly instincts on full-throttle. "Oh, yes. I forgot."

Vlad watched the exchange silently. His eyes roved over Mina's face, memorizing each and every detail for when he was once again alone. He spoke. "Mina, I was going to ask you... would you like to attend a performance at the Globe tonight?"

Mina looked up at his dark eyes, feeling rather shy. "I'd love to, but... my friend and I were just going for coffee."

"Oh. Perhaps some other time, then."

He hid his disappointment, smiling at the two of them. But as he turned to leave, Brigit spoke up. "Oh, Mina, don't be rude. We can have coffee together any day of the week."

"Can we?" Mina rushed, speaking to Vlad but only looking at him briefly. She felt like she was making a fool of herself. If only Brigit wasn't so outspoken, sometimes! "I... I suppose you can come with us. Then we'll see."

Her friend squeezed her arm happily. Vlad heard both of their hearts pounding, his eyes crinkling again in amusement. "I will if it pleases you, ladies."

They crossed the street together, entering the warm haven of the coffee shop. The women sighed, removing their damp coats carefully. They sat at a secluded table together, Vlad finding himself closest to Mina. He suspected Brigit to blame for this arrangement, but he certainly wasn't complaining.

A waitress soon appeared, blinking at Vlad for a moment before inquiring as to what they wanted. Mina ordered an espresso with milk, as did Brigit. Their companion asked only for water.

When the waitress left, Brigit turned to Vlad. "So, you met my friend in the Park?"

"Yes... although I confess I've seen her before."

Mina glanced at him in surprise. "You have?"

His eyes gleamed mischievously. "Just in the crowds. Close to the same place we met."

"Isn't that lovely?" Brigit glowed, looking at the both of them dreamily. There was an uncomfortable silence, then a cellphone rang shrilly.

"Oh!"Brigit removed her purse from her shoulder, fishing inside of it. "I am _so _very sorry... this will only take a minute..."

She left the table, then, walking outside of the shop to answer it. Mina turned her gaze back to her other companion, only to lower it again shyly. Vlad smiled at her. Her demeanor puzzled yet charmed him. She was so confident, so free with those at her work... only to quiet down noticeably around him.

_Do I intimidate her? _he thought.

"You know, I still don't know anything about you," she said suddenly.

He nodded once. "You're free to ask."

Her rosy lips tilted. "Why do I feel like you won't answer everything?"

"I might. But you haven't asked me yet."

"All right." She folded her hands on the table, leaning forward slightly. "I've told you my full name. What's yours?"

"Vlad..." He paused, though he had chosen an English surname months before. Her beautiful eyes were distracting him. "... Adams."

"Vlad Adams," she repeated dubiously. "Really?"

"Yes."

"I see." She left it at that. "Are you from here, Mr. Adams?"

"Please," he said hurriedly. "Call me Vlad."

"I will, but only if you tell me you're not from London."

He looked puzzled. "Why would I say that?"

"I have lived in London all my life. Your accent is feigned."

He smiled slowly. "I was hoping no one would notice."

"Maybe no one's talked to you long enough."

Vlad saw the subtle pity in her eyes, and frowned. "Next question."

"Where are you from?" she repeated softly.

He sighed. "Romania."

"Really?" her eyes lit up. "I have always wanted to visit Eastern Europe. Is it very beautiful there?"

"Yes."

It was her to turn to frown at his short reply. She searched for another way to get him to talk. Better the attention be on _him _than her. "Umm... do you work here in London?"

"I am looking for employment."

"So you've not been here long?"

"I travel frequently."

"Why?"

His gloved fingers tapped gently on his lap. "Next question."

"Fine." She chewed her lower lip as she thought, and he was distracted again, watching the pearly white of her teeth tug at the delectable, pink flesh...

"Favorite color?" she demanded, startling him.

"I... Blue."

"Mine, too." She smiled. "What do you like the least about London?"

"I dislike the crowds."

"Is this your first time in a city?" she asked.

Vlad looked up at her. His eyes were like black mirrors. "I prefer to be alone."

She blushed. "I'm sorry. I'm getting carried away."

He had made her uncomfortable again. He longed to reach across the table, brushing her rosy cheek with his fingertip. "Aren't you going to ask what I like best about London?" he said softly.

She looked up at him. "What?"

"It is true I like being alone, but certain people are an exception." He regarded her tenderly. "I enjoy your company, Mina."

She watched his lips pull carefully back from his teeth, unable to help smiling with him. Her heart fluttered its approval in her chest. "I... I enjoy it, too. I don't have many friends."

"I am honored you talk with me, Mina."

The way he said her name... She blushed readily, and lifted her coffee mug to hide the fact. Her eyes caught those of the waitress, standing by the window near a customer. She was a slender brunette, and her eyes zeroing in on Vlad made Mina's blood rise a little.

Vlad followed her angry gaze. "What are you staring at?"

Mina watched as he discovered the source of her irritation, feeling embarrassed and childish. Her eyes went from him to the waitress. She was startled to see the woman shrink back suddenly, snatching her tray and scurrying from the table. Her face was white as chalk.

Vlad turned back to his companion, humming gently. "I am sorry... what were we speaking of?"

Mina stared at him for a long moment. "I... I don't remember. I'm sorry."

"That is all right. I was probably boring you with my personal life." He plucked a napkin from the holder, passing it over to her gently. "You've spilled your coffee."

She wiped the few drops absently, staring into his dark eyes. Trying to understand, trying not to understand, for fear she would actually discover something. She giggled nervously to disguise her confusion. "You know, this is so funny... but I feel as if I've met you before."

"I've been thinking the same thing," he said quietly.

"And I've been wondering... how did you know I liked the poet Rumi?"

Vlad smiled, looking down at his hands, folded neatly on the table. "A mere coincidence. I saw you, and it came to mind."

She seemed to accept this, sighing. "I wish I had more time to read his work... and do other things. Like painting."

"Painting?"

"Oh, yes. And I've always wanted to travel, but there's not time. Did you know I've never left England?"

He looked into her yearning blue eyes, speaking quietly. "'Why are you so busy with this or that, or good or bad? Pay attention to how things blend.'"

She beamed in delight. "Do you have the whole thing memorized?"

"His words are engraved on my heart."

Her smile faded a little. His gaze was so intense, she felt as it would leave a mark when he looked away.

"How do you say such things?" she whispered.

His voice lowered with hers. "What things?"

"I don't know. I don't know you very well. Some things you say... they are so strange..." She felt like an idiot, struggling to explain what she meant. He had that look on his face again, a look that made the tears rise behind her eyes.

"Who are you, really?" she breathed.

She watched his lips part, then close. He, too, seemed to be struggling. "I have already told you, Mina."

"No. I want more than a name. Who _are _you? Why do I feel like I know you?" The tears pricked her eyes again.

"Mina..." he whispered. He reached out gloved fingers, to touch... her face? Her hand? She could feel that magnetic pull again, drawing her nearer and coaxing her eyes shut, as if he commanded her...

"Mina!"

She gasped, turning her head to see Brigit's concerned face. Vlad sat silently in his chair, as if he'd never moved.

"Mina, dear, I'm sorry... but I have to leave. My ex has an emergency at work, and wants me to pick up the kids." She rolled her eyes. "Typical, isn't it?"

"Oh, Brigit, I'm sorry," Mina stammered. She could feel her eyes straining in her sockets, trying to keep her focus on her friend. "Do you need me to help out, or...?"

"No, no. You enjoy your night. Again, I apologize for leaving so soon." Brigit hugged her friend, smiling at Vlad warmly before leaving the coffee shop.

Mina turned slowly, her eyes meeting those of her companion. He watched her quietly, never blinking.

"The theater," she said slowly. "Is there still time?"

He smiled. "Of course."

"What is playing tonight?"

_"Othello. _Will you come with me?"

"Yes."


	4. The Smell of Smoke

The play had been a success. Not only because of the versatility of the actors, but Vlad finally felt that his relationship to Mina was on smooth, steady ground. In the theater, away from the questions of friends and in the comforting darkness, she had relaxed considerably. She laughed at his comments, cried when Desdemona died, and even agreed to an informal dinner afterwards. Vlad ate nothing, of course, but he did his best to entertain her so she wouldn't notice. He had escorted her home, and although she didn't invite him inside, it was bliss just to be in her company. He had stood across the street for the next half hour, watching the lights in her flat go out one by one. He could not leave until he was sure she was safe.

He lay in his own apartment, staring up at the cracked ceiling quietly. Every nerve in his body tingled with a new found excitement. It was all so much better than he'd imagined. He was so sure that he'd lost her in this life; that his immortal and mortal body had somehow merged, leaving him hope only for the world beyond. Even then, his heart had been heavy. For what heaven of hers could he be part of?

She was the light to his darkness, but in darkness she could not rest.

Vlad rolled onto his side, the sofa creaking. Best not to think of it. He must enjoy what he had now, and not lose it. He closed his eyes. The sun had not yet set for the day, and he had no choice but to rest.

"_Are you sick?" _

_His son's voice, soft and anxious, reached his ears. He turned, the image of the Holy Christ hovering ominously behind him. The boy stood alone, barefoot in the cold chapel. _

_Vlad opened his lips to speak, but then Ingeras was in front of him. His big brown eyes mirrored his, watching his father. _

"_If you are sick… I thought it might make you feel better…" _

_Vlad looked down at the cloth pressed into his palm. He unwrapped it, revealing a hunk of dried bread. He looked up at his son, deeply touched. _

"_Thank you." He patted the bench. "Come…" _

_Ingeras obeyed willingly, accepting the piece of bread offered. His father watched him eat, strong feelings of love and pride rising in his heart. _

"_You'll make a great leader, someday," he said. "You think of others before yourself." _

_His son looked up, swallowing. "When the Turks came to take me, you stopped them. It's why you got sick, isn't it? To save me?" _

_Vlad exhaled. "Yes. And I would do it all again." _

_He embraced his son, smoothing down the wild curls tenderly. The little boy trusted him with his life. He must never do anything to betray that trust. _

Vlad woke with a start, his dark eyes staring unseeingly for a moment.

Someone was in his apartment.

He started to his feet, a soft hiss of air escaping his throat. He could hear a rustling in the bathroom, off from the kitchen. He began to creep toward that room, but then reconsidered, deciding to surprise the intruder. He pressed himself against the wall near the door, furthest from the window. He was somewhat startled, yet no less furious, to see a very un-intimidating woman waddle out from the bathroom. She was dressed like an employed cleaning lady, and her hands were sudsy with soap.

Vlad's eyes followed her, his muscles tensed like a great jungle cat observing its prey. He watched her walk to a small cart in the corner, wiping her hands, then head for the window. She muttered in her native tongue, squinting in the dim light. To his horror, she walked straight for the window, her hand lifting to yank apart the only thing that stood between him and the last, blazing ray of red light...

_"STOP!" _

He roared, flying across the room and seizing her wrist, twisting it back sharply. The woman shrieked in pain, dropping the cloth she held. Vlad's face came close to hers, his eyes blazing hot with anger.

_"What the hell are you doing here?!" _

"I... I...!" Her accent was thick. Ecuadoran? "S-sir... you are hurting me..."

He released her, and she stumbled back awkwardly, colliding with her cart of cleaning supplies. She knelt, frantically gathering soaps and cloths to her chest.

"Answer my question," he snarled.

"Please... please do not be upset, sir. I... I was told... t-to come..."

"By _whom?" _

"Th-the lady... the lady upstairs, sir."

"The one above this apartment?"

"Yes, sir."

Vlad swore quietly enough for her not to hear. Susan! _Damn_ that woman three times over! He could not tell her of his true nature, obviously, but surely she understood his need for privacy? That _no one _ever entered his apartment except _himself?! _

"I'm sorry," he said gruffly, helping the woman fix a mop back in place. "Is your wrist...?"  
>"Fine, just fine..." She seemed in a great hurry to get out of there. He didn't blame her. "Do you need anything else, sir, or-"<p>

"No. Please leave."

She bobbed her head rapidly, scuttling towards the door. Her cart made the most awful squeaking noise, and Vlad wondered at himself for not having heard it earlier. It was an alarming trait he had noticed in himself before; the subtle disconnection from reality whenever he remembered his past life... his loved ones. Did it truly hurt so much, that he never brought their memories into the cold light of day? That he never mentioned their names to anyone?

Yes. Yes it did. More so than the horrible glare of sunlight on his skin, for this was a pain internal in nature. It consumed his soul, gnawed upon his heart, filled his eyes. He would never be rid of it.

Mina's beautiful, familiar face rose up in front of him, and he let out a shuddering breath. If that fool of a woman had opened the curtain...

_Don't think of it. _He sat up, reaching in his pocket for a small sheet of paper. It was crumpled, but the numbers were still clear, written in Mina's pretty handwriting. He hadn't even had to ask for her number last night - she beat him to it. He grinned, remembering the sweet light in her eyes as she'd shyly handed the paper to him, torn quickly from her schedule planner. He had scribbled down his own number for her, pressing it into her warm hand - God, how soft her skin was! - before escorting her from the theater.

He strode across the room, where his rarely-used cellphone lay atop a battered cabinet. The fine blanket of dust covering it testified to its disuse. Vlad turned it on, waiting for the small screen to whirl to life. Satisfied to see all five bars full, he quickly flicked to the contacts screen, peering at the paper for a moment before dialing in her number. He saved it to contacts, and quickly pressed the "call" button. He pressed the phone eagerly to his ear, waiting.

A dial tone rang, then a flat-toned female voice. "Sorry, but you do not currently have phone service. Please contact us or purchase a card to renew. If this is an emergency, please-"

Vlad swore again, shoving the blasted thing into his pocket. Of course he'd forgotten. But whom did he ever have to call? He only kept the damn thing in case of emergency, or if Susan needed to reach him.

Susan.

The recent events of the day boiled up in Vlad's mind, and he growled, blurring across the room and opening the window. The sun had mercifully set, and the sky was a beautiful shade of ebony, with faintly-seen stars dusted across it. Vlad took no notice of it, however. He swung himself easily up the fire escape, landing just in front of his neighbor's window. The curtains, like his, had been drawn against the daylight. Susan's drinking, along with frequent partying and bad sleeping habits, gave her terrible migraines. She was something of a night owl, and one rarely saw her out and about earlier than eight o'clock.

Vlad rapped at her window with his knuckles. The sound would be awful, if she indeed had a headache, but he could care less. Her stupidity had nearly cost him his life.

"Susan! Get up!"

A soft groan reached his ears from inside.

"Susan, come talk to me _now!" _

The curtains opened slowly, and her hollow eyes gazed back at him. She unlocked the window, letting him in without a word.

"What were you thinking?" he demanded, as soon as he'd closed it behind him.

She sank into a hideous pink chair, covered in alcohol stains, and lit a cigarette.

"Susan..." he warned.

She looked up through the haze of smoke, her hair as red as her bathrobe. "Oh, laddie," she sighed. Her voice was heavy, almost thick. "When are ye goin' to stop seein' that girl and marry me?"

"Why did you send her to my room?" he asked quietly.

"Marta? She needed work. I gave her some."

"You know _damn _well I don't want anyone in there," he snarled.

Susan looked up at him lazily. "Would ye begrudge an immigrant a spot 'o cleanin'?"

His hand lashed out, seizing the smoking stub in her hand and smudging it out violently. "Don't ever do it again. Do I make myself clear?"

"I'm sorry," she whispered. A tone of true repentance entered her voice. "I don't want to sour yer mood."

He, too, tried to soften his tone. "Just tell me you understand."

"I do. I'm sorry."

Vlad straightened, running a hand briefly through his wealth of dark curls. He _had _to stop losing his temper. This was the second time in only an hour. It maddened him, for he did not know if it was a lack of Mina's calming presence... or merely the unavoidable curse of immortality.

He sighed. The place was a pigsty. He plucked a few items from the floor, setting them where he thought they belonged. He reached for the blanket crumpled in one corner, fluffing off the dust before spreading it neatly over Susan's bed.

The woman watched him, one painted eyebrow raised. "Yer goin' to clean for me, and yet I can't clean a bit for you?"

"You don't take care of yourself, Susan."

"I know that well enough." She patted a stool near her chair. "Sit. Talk to me."

He dusted it off a little, doing as she wished. She grinned down at him. "Yer a handsome man, Vlad."

He smirked, mimicking her accent. "'I know that well enough.'"

"You cheeky bastard." She decided against her cig, knowing how he hated the smell of smoke. Her drunkenness made her kinder, more soft and understanding. She leaned forward, taking one of his hands in hers. "You go out with that girl yet?"

"Yes. I'm seeing her again tonight."

"Yes?"

"We're having dinner tonight." He smiled at the lazy, yet motherly way she talked. "I have to pay for my phone bill, though. Completely slipped my mind."

"Took ye long enough. What if she got into trouble?"

Vlad's forehead creased, lines streaking down his face. "You don't think...?"

"Don't pay mind to what I think. Go along, now. I've got friends comin'."

"Not Nicole and Simon?" he said softly. He knew they would be up to no mind. Most likely give her the drugs she wanted, then take what they wanted from her already sparse apartment.

Susan's mouth twisted sharply. The alcohol was wearing off. "Oh, shut up, will ye? I can do as I please."

Vlad sat up, kissing her frail hand gently. It was trembling from fatigue, and lined with veins. "Be smart, Susan."

"Go away," she grumbled. "I've not done all me makeup, and ye look like a god, standin' there."

Vlad chuckled lowly, leaving her after locking her window. His spirits lifted, he glanced over the railing. Certain no one was watching, he leapt down five stories, landing neatly on his feet. He set off down the street, his phone thumbing lightly against his thigh. The store would not be open this late, but he didn't need the minutes just then. He had a date to keep.

* * *

><p>"I know, Brigit, but I really have to go now," Mina chattered into the phone, trying to hold it between cheek and shoulder while her hands flew around the kitchen. "No, dear. Yes, that's fine. All right... see you next week."<p>

She hung up, tilting her head to the side to get out a crick. She began to hum, stirring the risotto in the pain cheerfully. It was a Friday night, and the weekend stretched pleasantly before her. She had managed _- __finally! _- to get Vlad Adams' number last night. She was a little disappointed he hadn't called her that day, and especially disappointed not to see him waiting for her after work, but it didn't really matter. She was looking forward to their time together tonight, and everything had to be _perfect. _

"Does he like risotto, do you think?" she murmured to an apple before she sliced it. "Do they have rice in Romania...?"

A knock sounded at the door, and she almost cut her palm. She set down the knife quickly, hands shaking, and peeled the apron carefully from her slender body. This was also laid down shakingly, before she stepped into the hall.

"Compose yourself, Mina," she muttered. "You don't have to fawn all over the poor man."

She gave a quick tug to her blouse, making sure it fit well. She reached over, twisting the knob and opening the door to her apartment.

Vlad was not there. But someone else was.

"Eric?" she gasped.

"Hello, Mina." The tall, sandy-haired man smiled down at her, standing with a bouquet of flowers on the doorstep.

Shock flashed through her thoughts, then uncertainty, followed by disappointment, then shock again. "How... what are you doing here?"

"I was in town," he replied, still in the same gentle tone. His brown eyes showed concern. "Is this a bad time?"

"Eric, I don't think..." Her eyes widened suddenly. "Oh, gosh! My rice!"

She ran into the kitchen, leaving him standing there. She snatched the wooden spoon, quickly stirring the mixture to prevent its sticking to the bottom of the pan. Some had, regrettably, burned, but she managed to remove it from heat, dishing it carefully into a large bowl.

"Something burning?"

She turned, seeing Eric's large frame fill the doorway. She had always felt very small next to him, she remembered. He glanced at the stove, then at her. "Oh, good. You saved it."

"Yeah," she said weakly. With the crisis now out of the way, it was once again awkwardly silent.

"Having dinner? Might I join you?"

She bit her lip. She could see some of her favorite red roses in his bouquet. "You can put those flowers in the vase over there," she said slowly.

He looked where she pointed, but didn't move. His eyes looked sadly at her. "I didn't just come here for work, you know," he said. "I came to see you. I was hoping you were free tonight or something. It's short notice, I know..."

"Eric..."

"Just a little time," he continued, rushing his words a little. "I haven't seen you in so long, Mina."

"Eric... we're not together anymore."

"But we were," he whispered. He took a few steps towards her. "For two years. How rude would it be for me to come to London and not see you?"

"I understand," she said, feeling desperate. She admitted it _did_ feel good to see him, a familiar face in this big city, but she just didn't know how to ask him to leave. She watched him glance at the carefully-set table to the large bowl of rice beside her. "Are you... expecting someone? I can leave."

"If you don't mind," she said quickly. "I mean, we can always-"

"Yes," he finished, looking awkward. "I'll... call you tomorrow?"

"Yes, yes."

She took the flowers from his hands, trying to be gentle and sweet and polite all at the same time as she led him back through the foyer to the door. She noticed how neatly he was dressed, and felt bad again for doing this to him. She patted his arm.

"Tomorrow," she promised.

Eric opened the door, and Mina's heart did a sickening somersault in her chest. _  
><em>

It was Vlad.


	5. What? No Kiss?

**Sorry about the... is it a month now?... delay with the chapter. :( I wanted this to be a quickly-updated story, and I will do my best to have it be that way from now on. **

**I just want to say how delighted I was to bring back Vlad's upstairs neighbor, Susan. She has come vibrantly to life, without my help, and I love her already. (Scheherazade, that's for you. :)) Also, you will probably laugh at me, but I REPEATEDLY wrote Mina's name as "Mirena." *facepalm* I had to check over and over for this! :P  
><strong>

**Enjoy! And please review! **

* * *

><p>The silence was awful. Then they all spoke at once.<p>

"Vlad..."

"Mina." The two men said at once.

She looked at both of them. And then Vlad spoke again, very softly.

"Mina?"

Mina turned reluctant eyes to her date, her cheeks crimson with embarrassment. She forgot the present situation for a moment, looking at him. He was dressed neatly in black corduroys and dress shoes, and a deep blue sweater that hugged his well-formed chest and arms. His hair curled boyishly over his shoulders. He was so handsome, it hurt her heart.

She tried again. "Vlad... I am so sorry. This is Eric, a... a good friend of mine."

She could feel Eric tense beside her, clearly offended by her choice of words. But it was true, wasn't it? They _were not together _anymore. Irritation rose up from the embarrassment, and she felt herself flushing deeper. He had no _right _to show up, out of the blue, like that. She had no _need_ to be embarrassed.

Vlad watched the conflict in Mina's face, standing motionless on the doorstep. His acute senses picked up everything at once: the faint, burnt smell from the kitchen, the roses in Eric's hand, the blood pounding deliciously into her cheeks...

He swallowed. "Mina, if we need to meet another time-"

"No!" she interrupted quickly. "Eric was _just_ leaving, Vlad. Don't move."

She turned to Eric. His face was expressionless, and she knew what that meant. "Please go," she whispered. "I'm glad to see you, of course, but..."

"I'll call you," he said abruptly. He walked past Vlad without greeting, walking down the sidewalk to his car parked by the curb. Mina watched him drive away, turning again to her companion.

"I'm sorry," she said again. Her heart seemed to fill her chest without Eric's worrying presence, and she hoped Vlad knew how happy she was to see him.

He gave a soft smile. "It's perfectly all right. May I come in?"

"Yes." She let him inside, closing the door cheerfully behind him.

He looked about him at the cozy apartment. "What is it that smells so lovely?"

"Oh, does it?" She laughed nervously. "I almost burned dinner, you know. But it should be all right."

Vlad chuckled with her, following her into the kitchen. He was not worried about deceiving her, as far as dinner was concerned. He had spent centuries perfecting the technique of "eating," along with many others, to make it look believable. Sleight of hand was such a useful thing. For the first time, however, he was not happy with his deception. He wanted so much to have trust in their relationship. To be able to tell her everything, as he had with Mirena.

He watched the slender curve of Mina's neck as she bent to get some plates. He had no desire to hurt her. He must simply go with his instincts. It would all come out well, surely.

"Do you want to set these on the table?" she asked, turning to him.

"Of course." He took the plates and utensils from her, helping her arrange glasses and bowls, as well. As she brought the food to the table, he felt touched by all the work she had done. There was risotto and vegetables, apple _tarte tatin, _basil soup with oyster crackers, and an unopened bottle of Chardonnay.

He watched her sit across from him, unfolding her napkin with care. The love he felt seemed to purge him completely, her presence washing away all the anger and frustration of the past day. Like Mirena, she was still his other half. His gentle angel.

"This is beautiful, Mina," he said genuinely. "Thank you."

She blushed prettily. "You are very welcome. May I dish up a plate for you?"

"I can manage it, love." He bit his lip at the slip, concentrating on serving himself a moderate amount. _Idiot. _

Mina gave a little shudder, surprised yet pleased. "Could you... I mean, would you like to open the wine bottle?"

He obliged, uncorking it with ease. He let the extra liquid dribble into the container before pouring her a glass, and then filling his own. Mina's delicate fingers circled the crystal, lifting it.

"To us," she said softly.

"To us," he echoed. He looked up at her with a smile, lifting his glass, when his eye caught sight of something behind her. A large mirror, framed in cheap metals and faintly scratched at the bottom. He froze.

"Mina," he said hurriedly, rising.

She looked up. "What is it?"

"You spilled a little... Here, let me..."

He walked at a normal pace towards her, then blurred, quickly snatching the mirror and sliding it behind a large cabinet behind her. Before she could blink, he was back at her side, dabbing at a small spot on her blouse with a napkin.

"Don't worry, love. I'm sure it will come out." It was the second time he'd called her "love."

"Oh, Vlad, don't be silly. It's nothing."

She smiled up at him with such sweetness, such warmth, he could have kissed her right there. But he was desperate to have everything be right with her. A little endearment was fine, maybe, but he would wait a little longer for other favors.

"You're welcome," he murmured. Her loud heartbeat echoed in his ears as he walked back to his seat.

"Please help yourself," she said softly.

He smiled at her, taking every dish she passed over to him, and filling his plate generously. Their conversation passed smoothly enough after that, and Vlad was glad to see her anxiety over Eric seemed to have passed. He itched to ask her about him, however. How long had they known each other? Was he a kind man? Did she still have feelings for him?

"So, Vlad..." Mina was beaming at him over their dessert plates. "Have you grown used to our London weather yet?"

He grinned. "I think so. It is rather unpredictable."

"True... but it doesn't get too cold, which makes me happy."

"You don't care for the cold?"

She shuddered, her eyes sparkling. "Oh, no. I don't have much fat on my bones, you see."

"I think you are very lovely," he said quietly.

She watched his gaze flicker from her slender hands back up to her face, and gave another shudder. "You're very kind."

He smiled at her, watching her take another bite of the _tatin. _He could feel his mind detaching again, from present to past, in a sweet haze of remembrance. His departed wife, wrapped up snugly in a coat of soft fur, her braid swishing back and forth as he followed her. Teasing him. She walked fearlessly through the drifts of snow, occasionally brushing her gloved fingertips in the flakes. The wind had been less harsh that year, but she had not allowed him to take Ingeras out.

_"He is too young, dearest," she insisted. _

_Her husband wrapped his arms around her waist, halting her movement. "Mirena... my sweet love..." _

_She sighed, looking up at him, upside-down. He kissed the pink tip of her nose. "Do not fret. I will give it another year."  
><em>

_"But he will be only five _next _year!" _

_"Then I will wrap him up until he is unable to move." He chuckled at her playful sigh of exasperation, covering her mouth with his. She closed her eyes, turning around fully to return his kiss. _

_"I love you," she whispered. _

_"And I you, iubitul meu." _

"Vlad? Vlad, can you hear me?"

The forgotten prince blinked his eyes, staring across the table at his wife's reincarnation. Mina had half-risen, her hand outstretched as if to shake him. Her blue eyes were filled with worry.

Vlad blinked again, realizing his eyes were moist. "Yes. Yes... Mina. Forgive me."

"You scared me," she said softly.

"Forgive me," he repeated. He felt terrible for having caused her pain. She continued to scrutinize him, and he forced a soft laugh. "I... I have these little moments. Where I remember things."

"Things that are unpleasant?"

"No, not always." God, but she was looking at him just like _she _did! When she knew he was hiding something from her. "Some are sweet, and others are like waking from a nightmare. But I always wake up." He gave her a comforting smile.

"I am sorry." She rose, beginning to gather the dishes. She glanced over at him. "My, but you were hungry, weren't you?"

He chuckled weakly. "Your cooking is wonderful."

He stood to help her, delighting each time her elbow or shoulder brushed his body as they worked. She walked him to the doorway afterwards, laughing at little jokes he told her.

"I haven't smiled so much in a long time," she giggled, poking his arm playfully.

Vlad laughed deeply at her adorable giggle. His arm burned where she'd touched it. She leaned against the door, and he leaned against the doorframe. Both looked shyly at each other, each unwilling to leave.

"I was thinking," she began.

"Yes?"

"Well..." She twisted a chain on her wrist thoughtfully. Vlad's eyes followed the movement, feeling himself hypnotized by it. When she spoke, it was with a flush in her cheeks. "I _would_ like to see you again. There is a picnic tomorrow afternoon, hosted by one of my managers at work-"

"I can't," Vlad said hurriedly.

Mina looked up at him, and her saw her chest rise and fall once. "Why not?" she asked.

"The forecast... it will be sunshine tomorrow..."

"Yes," she said, puzzled. "That is why I've asked you. It's been so rainy lately..."

Vlad looked down at her, such tenderness and softness in his face, that she stopped again to listen.

"I cannot," he said gently. "Please understand when I say I cannot explain further."

A deeper rose suffused her cheeks, and she looked away. "It's me? You think we're moving too fast?"

"No!"

The word throbbed gently on his tongue. He took her hands in his, cherishing their warmth, their fragility. "It has nothing to do with you, my love. I..." He thought frantically, all his planned lies for this moment vanishing from his head. "I prefer the darker days, the rain. My memories are such..." He broke off, ending quickly, but earnestly. "I cannot bear the sun, Mina."

He felt her hands tug at his at first, then relax as he spoke. She looked up at him as he finished, her lovely face somewhat comforted. His eyes met hers evenly, not letting go of her for a moment.

"You can tell me nothing more?" she asked quietly.

"No."

"Will you ever...?"

"I don't know."

"I don't like being lied to, Vlad."

"I know." His heart twisted in his chest. "I promise to explain everything... soon."

Her hands relaxed further, than squeezed his once. This appeared to be enough for now. "Forgive my questioning," she sighed. "I have been hurt before."

He cautiously reached out his arms for her. She nestled into them after only a moment, wrapping her arms with a sigh around his waist. He held her close, the happiness at holding her helping to diminish the sudden rage he felt. Hurt? By whom? If it was Eric, then he would tear the bastard's head off-

Her tremulous voice broke into his consciousness, halting the sea of red before his eyes. "When can I see you again?"

"Whenever and wherever you wish."

She smiled into his sweater. "Except during the day?"

He grinned, kissing her golden head. "Only if there's sun."

"And you really won't tell me now?"

"It is best."

She gave a little sigh, but accepted his answer. He let her go reluctantly, it being almost midnight. She must be exhausted.

"I will call you," he promised, walking down the steps.

"All right. Good night!" She waved at him, watching him disappear down the street with some disappointment. How odd it was, that he had not yet attempted to kiss her. And she so did want him to! There was that one time during dinner, where she could have sworn...

Mina closed and locked the door, yawning as she padded off to the kitchen. Vlad had done a wonderful job of helping with the dishes, to her delight. Ever thoughtful, he was. She stood in the dining room, smiling sleepily at the now empty table. It was then she noticed something amiss. She frowned.

"Where is my mirror?"

* * *

><p><strong>iubitul meu - my beloved<br>**


End file.
